


Formal

by Stormchild



Category: X-Men Evolution
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 14:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormchild/pseuds/Stormchild
Summary: Lance accidentally discovers he has a thing for prom dresses.





	Formal

**Author's Note:**

> Look, a thing I wrote instead of the thing I was supposed to write. Pretty much just an excuse to put pretty bigender Tro in a prom dress.

Formal was stupid. Lance didn't know why he was even here. Kitty had dumped him two days ago, but he'd already rented the fucking tux and Pietro had convinced him that staying home and drinking would be letting her win.

Pietro didn't come with them. He wanted his dress to be a surprise. He was so goddamn dramatic over everything.

Lance drank vodka out of a water bottle -- nobody had checked it -- and tried to look anywhere but the corner where Kitty was with some of the X-Girls. Yeah, this was _so_ much better than staying home.

"Wow. I can't believe Maximoff actually wore a dress to prom," someone behind him said.

"I can't believe he actually looks better than his date."

The first time Pietro had shown up at school in women's clothes, it was a tight, high-waisted little skirt that made Lance's cock hurt and was only just long enough to be fit the dress code. Which, Pietro had later pointed out to a horrified Principal Kelley, didn't say men couldn't wear skirts, and besides, Principal Darkholme allowed it.

Nobody was stupid enough to start shit over it. Duncan tried that first time. He'd made a crude, disgusting joke that made Lance want to break every bone in his body. Pietro had smiled that sweet, terrifying smile and smashed Duncan's face into a locker. No more jokes after that.

The dress was worth it.

Ice blue matched Pietro's eyes. The lace bodice must have been taken in to accommodate his flat chest. A jeweled belt gave the impression of curves, emphasizing his slight waist. Lance's eyes moved down to the double-layered skirt that fell just above his knees. He licked his lips and followed those long legs to his shoes, a pair of strappy black heels that extended his calves and made his ass look gorgeous. Pietro turned, and Lance stared at his bare back, the dress curving around his shoulder blades and meeting the small of his back.

His date, a girl Lance recognized from the volleyball game he'd been forced to sit through, wore a similar dress. Same colour, but it was strapless and slightly longer. The waist was different too, Lance wasn't sure. It didn't have that belt. He didn't care what she was wearing.

Someone slid into Lance's periphery. He was too busy marvelling at those shoulder blades to see who, but he recognized the voice.

"Goddamn," Evan muttered.

Lance nodded in agreement.

"Makes you wish you hadn't dumped him, huh?" he said.

"I could say the same to you. Think he's going home with her?"

Lance watched the couple, watched them kiss and hold hands. He knew what Pietro looked like when he wanted to sleep with someone. They were just showing off. Or maybe that was just optimism.

"I dunno. Maybe."

"Must be hard living with him when he sleeps around so much."

Is that jealousy? Of course it is. Everyone in the auditorium is jealous of that girl, sliding her hands over Pietro's shoulders. How can they not be?

"Sometimes," Lance admitted. Something petty and vindictive crawled into his throat. "His dates aren't usually enough to satisfy him so he's usually still horny when he gets home."

The music was loud enough that he was pretty sure nobody could hear him. Evan let out a strangled sound, though whether it was from jealousy or arousal or both, Lance couldn't tell.

"So you guys--"

"Yeah."

"Fuck… How pissed do you think he'd be if I tried talking to him?"

The couple had separated, and Pietro was grinding against some guy from the track team. Clearly, they weren't exclusive. They only separated when Kelley shooed them apart, though Pietro made an obscene gesture that made the runner blush visibly even in the dim light.

Lance swallowed. One would think that after all this time, he would be used to Pietro. He had to look at Evan to keep from staring at Pietro's lips as he chugged down a bottle of water.

"You asked him out, told him you loved him, fucked him, and then dumped him  because you figured you don't like dudes. You'll be lucky if he only breaks half your face."

Evan sighed a little.

"Look at him, man. I obviously fucked up on that."

"You hurt him."

"So did you," Evan pointed out, motioning to Kitty through the crowd. "I know what heartbreak looks like on him, even when he tries to hide it."

"Yeah… Maybe that's why I don't want you hurting him again."

They settled in silence for a moment. Lance offered Evan the vodka, which he took. Across the room, Pietro leaned against a table and pulled his skirt up just a little. His phone was tucked into a white, lacey bandelette that kept his thick thighs from chaffing.

Lance wished the auditorium wasn't so fucking hot. As if that wouldn't make anyone want to fuck him. He wanted to push his hands up Pietro's skirt and--

_'Get ahold of yourself.'_

"I'm gonna talk to him. Here."

Evan handed Lance the water bottle and squeezed through the crowd. Pietro slid his phone back into his bandelette, flashing that toned thigh for anyone who was looking. They stood close together, not close enough to be intimate but close enough to hear each other over the music. It was hard to read their expressions.

After an entire song of watching them talk, Lance was beginning to feel awkward. He told himself he was just making sure Evan didn't hurt him. It seemed fine, though. Jealousy stirred In Lance's chest, and he forgot he was supposed to be upset over Kitty.

He watched them walk out to the middle of the auditorium during a slow song, his heart clenching. Evan's arms were around Pietro's waist, holding him close. Pietro's arms were on his shoulders, and he was bending forward a little to make up for the height his high heels added. There was something… sad in what Lance could see in their expressions and when they kissed, it wasn't what he was afraid of.

Lance had to close his eyes. He didn't want to see this. The air beside him rustled and filled with the smell of citrus shampoo and lipstick.

"Hey."

Lance opened his eyes and turned to Pietro. Red lips were pulled into something of a smile, though it didn't reach his mascara-circled eyes. The sight of him left Lance breathless for a moment.

"Hey."

"Standing here by yourself?" Pietro said.

"Only person I wanted to dance with was taken." He nodded towards Evan. "What was all that?"

He hoped that sounded conversational. Pietro shivered. Lance wrapped his arm around his shoulders.  

"Closure. He said he was sorry, he was confused and scared and it made him act like a dick. Apparently he wanted to apologize for years but he was afraid of making things worse or having to acknowledge what a dick he was. He never apologized before. It was all I wanted. Just for him to know how much he hurt me and say he was sorry."

Guilt twisted in Lance's stomach. He'd hurt Pietro, too, hadn't he? Always dumping him to go back to Kitty.

"What about that dance?"

"We were supposed to go to formal together. I spent months saving for this gorgeous greed dress. We didn't get to go. He chickened out."

"He dumped you before formal?"

"A week before. I didn't go. I ripped the dress up and spent the night with someone I shouldn't have. I… I blamed him for it for a long time."

"He shouldn't have dumped you. He didn't know what he was giving up." Lance paused and kissed his bare shoulder. "I shouldn't have either."

"You're just saying that because of the dress," Pietro teased.

Lance growled at the back of his throat. That fucking dress. Pietro's words reminded him how much he wanted to lift his skirt and touch that pretty cock tucked between his thighs. Was he wearing panties, or briefs?

"This dress is making me want to fuck you right here in front of everyone. But it's not just that. You're the only person I want to be with tonight."

"What about Kitty?"

"She doesn't have your calves. Or your smile. Or your sense of humour."

"Just say sarcasm."

"Your sarcasm is sexy."

Pietro laughed and kissed him. Lance pulled back sharply.

"Your lipstick."

"Smudgeproof."

Lance sighed in relief and kissed him again. It was sweet, almost innocent, and nothing like how Lance was planning on kissing him later. He let himself be pulled to the centre of the auditorium. He didn't care who was looking at them, as long as Pietro was pressed against him like that. One hand went around his waist, the other on the middle of his back.

"What about your date?" Lance asked.

"She just didn't want to come alone. Now that she's here, she's having fun."

Lance pretended his exhale wasn't from relief. He wasn't going to have to share Pietro tonight. Hopefully not any night, but he didn't want to think or talk about that now. He just wanted to focus on Pietro's steady breath. It was enough to make him forget that anyone else was even here.

He didn't even think about Kitty until they were leaving.

"Don't look at her," Pietro whispered, "look at me."

It was impossible not to.

Lance spent the drive home alternating between having his hand on the wheel and Pietro's thigh, teasing the edge of his bandelette. If not for Fred and Todd in the back seats, making lewd comments every time his hand wandered too high, he would have pulled over and fucked Pietro right there. The audience didn't stop Pietro from letting out appreciative sighs and hums that travelled straight to Lance's cock.

"Come on, man, at least wait until we can out some music on or something," Todd grumbled.

Pietro flashed a wide grin at him through the rear view mirror.

"Like you've ever tried to drown out the sound of us fucking."

Todd turned red and stuttered over his denial. If Todd wasn't, well, Todd, it might have bothered Lance. But Todd was Todd, and Pietro was gorgeous.

Lance barely had a chance to cut the engine before Pietro was on him, straddling his hips and kissing him fiercely. His mouth tasted like lipstick and cheap punch. The kisses came almost too fast for Lance to respond to; he kept kissing back just a breath too late. He made up for it by pushing his hands up Pietro's skirt. One hand squeezed his thigh while the other came around to cup his ass. His thumb brushed along the edge of his underwear. It felt like panties. Lance couldn't wait to confirm.

"Inside." He turned his head so that Pietro's kisses met his jaw. "Let's go inside."

He wanted to fuck Pietro properly. It would have been so hot to have Pietro ride him here, but he wanted to see Pietro spread out on his bed even more. His hand fumbled with the door. Pietro climbed off him, tugging him along. He barely had the presence of mind to lock the Jeep. Not that he needed to, nobody would steal the damn thing.

Loud music was already playing inside.

Pietro bent down to take off his shoes.

"Leave them on," Lance said.

The way they stretched his calves and encircled his pretty feet made blood rush to Lance's cock. Everything about Pietro made blood rush to Lance's cock. He nudged Pietro ahead, taking advantage of the view of his legs and ass as he went up the stairs. Lance was already loosening his tie and undoing the buttons on his shirt. He closed the bedroom door behind them. There was no need to lock it. Nobody was going to be looking for them anytime soon.

Pietro started to push his sleeve down over his shoulder, but Lance caught his hand.

"Leave that on, too."

"Seriously?" There was an excited glint in his eyes. "We're going to ruin it."

"I'll get you a new one."

Lance wrapped his arms around Pietro, pulling him close and kissing his neck. He rubbed his hands over Pietro's tiny waist and hips through the dress. His mouth moved down to the hollow of his throat and suckled at the patch of skin, feeling Pietro's gasps vibrate through his skin.

_'Yes,'_ he thought, his mouth too occupied to vocalize it.

His cock was hard now, pressing against the zipper of his pants. He wasn't fighting the desire anymore. They were alone. He could be as aroused as he wanted. He wrapped his hands around Pietro's thighs and pulled them up around his waist, cupping his ass to support his weight.

"Don't you dare drop me," Pietro warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it, pretty boy."

Pietro was too light. There was a moment of fear where Lance worried he was going to hurt him. But Pietro's mouth found his again and any coherent thought was gone. He set Pietro down on the bed and sat back on his heels, taking a moment to marvel at his beauty.

He slid his hands up Pietro's thighs, pushing his skirt up in the process. He hooked a finger in one of the bandelettes and pulled it down past his knee, along his calf, and down to his ankle where it caught on his shoe. He fumbled with it until Pietro kicked it off, then did the same with the other, making sure to set his phone on the bedside table. His hands moved up further to his hips.

Blue panties stretched across Pietro's cock.

Lance gasped a little at the sight. It felt like a shame to pull them down. He rubbed his fingers over the bulge. Pietro's hips twitched.

"Lance… Lance, please, don't tease. Take them off."

God, Pietro was hot. Lance obliged and pulled the panties down, brown eyes fixed on that pretty pink cock. He pulled his clothes off and let them fall to the floor. His eyes were fixed on Pietro wringing his hands in his skirt and arching against the mattress. Lance tugged at one of the straps of Pietro's dress.

"I thought you wanted me to keep it on."

"I do. I want to see your nipples."

Pietro whimpered and propped himself up to push the top of his dress down to just below his chest, making the bodice look more like a corset. Those pink nipples peaked as they were exposed. They were just begging for attention.

Lance rubbed his thumbs against the tight, sensitive little nubs. His eyes drank in the sight of Pietro's face flushing, his red mouth falling open as he gasped. He'd figured out forever ago that the quickest way to make Pietro's cock start dripping precum and his tight hole to loosen was to play with his nipples. Though the way he writhed and whimpered was motivation enough. Lance dipped his head down and caught one of his nipples between his teeth in a gentle nip before he bit down on the entire area a little harder.

Long fingers tangled in Lance's hair and guided him to the other nipple to give it the same treatment. He alternated between the two, soothing the skin with his tongue after every bite. Pietro thrust his hips up against Lance's thigh with high, breathy moans.

"Fuck me," he whined.

"Oh, God, gladly."

Lance fumbled in the bedside table for the lube and condoms. Overeager, he spilled a bit too much on his fingers. Some of it landed on Pietro's dress. He tried to wipe it up but it only made it worse. He pulled Pietro's hips up with his clean hand and pushed one of his legs back to give him access to his opening. The puckered ring of muscle twitched, though it tightened in apprehension as Lance pressed his index against it.

"Sh, it's okay. Just relax."

He kissed Pietro's inner thigh and reached up to play with one of his nipples to distract him. Pietro was always so tight. Even when his cock was wet and dripping and he was gasping for Lance to fuck him, he was tight. Something about his accelerated healing meant every time they did this, even they went two, three, four times in one night, Lance had to stretch him out again. Honestly, he loved the excuse to have his fingers inside Pietro's ass. Pleasuring him this way always made Lance so fucking hard.

The second finger went easily enough, but the third provided some resistance. Lance poured more lube onto his fingers and Pietro's hole and pressed in.

"You're doing great, Tro. Just take this last one, that's it. That's it, good boy."

Pietro gasped at the praise. His mouth moved soundlessly until he bit his lip.

Lance gave Pietro a moment to adjust before he started to thrust and spread his fingers. He twisted his fingers, searching for that spot inside him that would make him scream.

"Lance!" Found it. "Lance, please. I want your cock!"

He broke off in a desperate babble of something that wasn't English. Polish or German or Romani, probably, or many one of the other half dozen languages Pietro spoke. It made Lance's cock twitch. If it was anyone else, he might have done as asked, but he knew Pietro needed a little more. The last thing Lance ever wanted to do was hurt him. He rubbed his fingers against the swollen gland, feeling his muscles relax against the stretch.

_"Lance!"_

It came out almost like a sob.

"Fuck." Lance kissed Pietro's thigh again and pulled out slow enough to make him shudder. "I can't resist you when you beg like that."

He really couldn't. He tore the condom wrapped with his teeth and rolled it onto his cock before coating himself with more lube than entirely necessary. For good measure, he poured some more into Pietro's gaping hole, spreading it and massaging it in with his fingers.

There was a slight pop as the head of Lance's cock pressed past the wet sphincter. They both gasped. He teased Pietro's nipples with his fingers and kissed his knee as he slid his hips forward almost too slowly, sheathing himself in the tight heat. Lance's eyes rolled back in his head. This was what he'd been wanting all night, what his cock had been wanting. He forced himself to look back down at him. Seemed like a shame to waste a view like this.

And God, what a view it was.

Pietro trembled, though Lance couldn't tell from what. Pain? Emotion? Pleasure?

"Pietro, look at me. Look at me. Relax."

After a few deep breaths, Pietro did. His muscles loosened and he sank back into the mattress. Lance pulled his hips in, bringing them flush together and earning another gasp from those pretty lips. Long fingers grasped at the sheets.

Lance leaned forward to cup the back of Pietro's neck and kiss him. Pietro whimpered against his lips.

"How does that feel?" he asked.

If he was hurting Pietro, he wanted to know.

"Good. Feels good. _Bitte_."

Lance started to thrust and despite his pleas, Pietro tightened up again. He wasn't usually this uptight, but Lance could be patient, even if his cock was screaming at him to _move_.

"Look at me. I've got you. Okay?"

Pietro nodded. "Mhm."

"Good. Do you trust me?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Tell me if you need me to stop."

He gave one experimental thrust, then another harder one. Pietro gasped, blue eyes locked on his face.

He started moving again and this time, Pietro stayed calm, though he bit his lip. His lipstick was smudged now. He could only keep the slow pace for so long. Within seconds, he was thrusting hard and fast, pounding into the speedster hard enough to shake the bed and slam the headboard back against the wall. Pietro moaned and screamed and begged, alternating between English and German in a semi-coherent rush of sound.

Lance wasn't going to last like this. It was too much. As much as he tried to keep in control for Pietro's sake, to give him what he needed, his body had a mind of its own. He was already so worked up from watching Pietro all night, and they hadn't fucked in weeks.

Pietro's hand moved between his thighs to stroke himself. Precum dribbled from his cock onto his dress.

" _Sie fühlen sich_ \-- A-ah! So good. Oh, it's so good!"

It was, holy fuck, it was _so_ good.

Lance hooked one of Pietro's long legs over his shoulder. The slight shift sent him deeper and made his cock rub right against Pietro's sweet spot.

" _Oh_ my God!"

He kissed Pietro's calf, his ankle, down the side of his foot. Part of him almost wished he wasn't still wearing those gorgeous shoes. He bit the straps and scraped his teeth over Pietro's skin. His tongue darted out against his toe.

He couldn't stop himself anymore. He couldn't draw this out, no matter how much he wanted to. Pietro's moans of his name drowned out any image he tried to conjure to slow himself down.

Sweat rolled down his spine, collecting in the small of his back. That pretty, pink cock was bright red, nipples flushed and slightly swollen. The sight alone was enough to make the familiar, tight pressure coil in his stomach and pull his balls up. He slammed into Pietro, hard and fast and erratic. His vision filtered in and out of focus and he stared at Pietro's chest, at the spot where his dress was pushed down, at that belt, his tiny, tiny waist.

"Fuck- _Fuck!_ "

The entire house shook as he emptied himself into Pietro who quickly followed suit, clenching hot and tight mid-orgasm, milking him for all he was worth. His hand joined Pietro's stroking in a messy rhythm that might not have felt good if Pietro wasn't already staining the dress with his own cum.

Pietro fell back on the bed, breath stuttering and eyes fluttering closed. His chest heaved, and his pretty mouth pulled into a tired smile.

Lance pulled his softening dick out and discarded the condom. He helped Pietro out of the dress and shoes, and pulled him against him. His body was warm and his heart was racing in a way that would have worried Lance if he wasn't so used to it.

"Glad I talked you into coming?" Pietro asked, his voice thick with an almost-forgotten accent.

"I'm glad you wore that dress."

The speedster hummed, tucking himself under Lance's chin. Lance held him close, rubbing his back and kissing his hair. His breathing evened out as he drifted to sleep, Lance following only when he was sure Pietro was safe.


End file.
